


Helping You Say Goodbye

by tqpannie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Erotica, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-09
Updated: 2005-10-09
Packaged: 2018-10-25 13:14:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10764990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tqpannie/pseuds/tqpannie
Summary: Harry is there for Ron when it





	Helping You Say Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

Silence… It was the silence that was so wrong, Ron thought to himself as he stared out the kitchen window. 

His stomach was in knots and he couldn’t help but wonder if the task that lay ahead might break him. He wanted to lash out at something—he wanted to do anything but turn around and see the seven urns on the table again. Seven urns in scripted with initials…seven urns each one containing a bit of his heart. 

It had happened in one blinding flash of green light—one powerful spell that robbed him of all those he loved most. It fell to him the last remaining Weasley—save Percy who was rotting away in Azkaban—to lay them to rest.

Thunder rolled in the distance and it seemed to signal that it was time to get started. He pulled a bottle of Ogden’s Firewhiskey and two shot glasses from the cupboard. His hands shook causing the glasses to rattle together and the noise seemed deafening in the small kitchen. Ron forced in huge quantities of air and tried to calm himself—failing miserably. He stared out the window again as the rain began to fall and became lost once again in his memories.

“Ron?” Harry said softly, “Ron, it’s time.”

He hadn’t heard Harry come into the kitchen in fact he’d barely noticed his presence the last couple of days. He was aware that someone had been there helping him—that someone had forced him to eat and sleep—but it never registered through the fog in his mind that his best mate and lover was even there.

He squared his shoulders and turned to face Harry. He noticed for the first time the grief etched into deep lines on Harry’s face and realized that possibly Harry was hurting as much as he was. 

“I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to have to say goodbye.” 

Ron could feel the sting of tears in the corner of his eyes and forced them back. He hadn’t cried not once—not when the Ministry had broken the news, not when he watched them lower Hermione into the ground, and not when they led Percy away begging for forgiveness.

“I’ll be with you. I’ll help you say goodbye.” Harry said softly as his hand fell on Ron’s shoulder.

Ron took a shuddering breath and leaned against Harry for a moment trying to draw the strength to go forward. He nodded his head slightly to indicate that he heard and pulled his wand from his pocket.

“Locomotor,” he said the urns rose off the table and he guided them towards the door. 

Harry grabbed the bottle of Firewhiskey and they headed into the rain. 

They walked across the backyard towards the makeshift quidditch pitch he and his brothers had erected so many years ago. He stopped when he reached the edge of the field and stared. Memories of laughter and endless summer afternoons of Quidditch assaulted him and he released a choking sob. He was grateful for the rain pouring down, hiding the tears that were sliding down his cheeks.

“Pour us a drink so that we can toast them.”

Harry broke open the bottle and poured the both of them a shot. Ron took his hoping it would take the edge off of what he was going to say. 

“Here’s to Bill, Charlie, Fred and George,” he said as he raised his glass, “We spent many a summer day here and I thought this is where you’d want to spend eternity.” 

He clinked his glass with Harry’s trying to ignore the tears he saw in Harry’s eyes. The whiskey burned pleasantly and warmed his stomach. He picked up the first urn with the initial FW engraved into it. His whole body shook as he walked around the pitch, scattering the remains into the thick grass growing there. Harry handed him another shot when he came back and repeated his actions again. A knot formed in his stomach as each ash fell to the ground. This was all that was left of his brothers—ashes—there would be no more pranks, no more dragons tamed, and no galleons recovered for Gringotts… He couldn’t stop his tears and he looked up at the sky desperately wanting to rage at the Gods who had brought them to this point. 

When he was finished, the last ash spilled, he walked back over to Harry. He blindly reached for Harry’s hand and entwined their fingers. Harry reached his hand up and pushed the wet fringe from his forehead.

“We don’t have to do it all today…”

Ron’s eyes slid shut and he tried to speak but nothing came out. Harry’s hand slid to his cheek and his thumb brushed away the tears that still lingered. He leaned into Harry’s touch enjoying the sense of comfort it gave him.

“No,” Ron whispered opening his eyes, “I’ll never have the strength to do it again.”  
Harry nodded his head and lifted Ron’s hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of his hand before releasing it.

 

They both knew where they were going next—the pond. Ginny had loved the pond when they had been children…before they were forced to grow up so quickly…before this whole bloody war started. The rain was coming down in buckets as they walked to the pond. The only sound was the rain popping on the still water of the pond and he was once again struck by how unnatural it was.

The paused at the edge of the water and Ron took a deep breath when he accepted his glass from Harry.

“To my baby sister. You were a girl who annoyed me when we were young always tagging along. I came to admire you—your strength, your beauty, and the fierceness in which you took care of those you loved. I can’t imagine going on with out you here. I think I’ll miss you the most even more than mum and dad because you understood me.”

He and Harry clinked glasses and muttered in unison, “To Ginny.”

Ron scattered her ashes along the edge of the water and watch them dissolve in the water. 

“Please be happy where ever you are Ginny.” He whispered.

 

 

“Where to next?” Harry asked.

 

“The garden—Mum and Dad loved the garden.”

They walked silently to the garden and several gnomes scurried away ahead of them. Ron wondered briefly if they were looking for his Dad. He closed his eyes and could see his parents there in front of him. His dad puttering around while his mum tended one of the overgrown flowerbeds. He remembered watching them from his bedroom one night—he hadn’t been able to fall asleep—worry about Harry rendered him a hopeless insomniac. The moon had been full and the garden full of fireflies. His dad had come up behind his mum holding a perfect rose and handed it to his mother. He had always known his parents loved each other but it was driven home by what happened next—his parents danced with nothing but the moonlight and the chirping of the crickets to provide music. His dad twirled his mum around and around until they were both dizzy from the movement and fell to the ground. Then he pressed a kiss to the top of her head and said, “I love you Molly.”

Thunder crashing brought him back to his senses and he opened his eyes. Harry wordlessly poured them each a shot and Ron opened his mouth to speak but found himself at a loss for words. He struggled to form his thoughts into a semblance of order and drank the shot. He let its warmth overtake him and he held out his glass for more before squaring his shoulders and finally speaking.

“Mum and Dad—we didn’t have much in the way of galleons when I grew up. I used to think that was important—that money got you where you needed to be.” 

Ron paused and glanced at Harry, his eyes were covered with a fine sheen of tears. Ron could tell that he was trying to control his emotions—bottle them up to be strong for him.

“You gave us so much more than galleons—you taught us the one thing money can’t buy. You taught us how to love. We were a family—a good family.”

His hands shook and he didn’t bother to cover the anguish in his voice, “This place,” Ron said pointing to the Burrow, “is where I learned to laugh, to cry, and to love. I am proud to call myself your son.”

He poured his mum and dad’s ashes into the flowerbed and lifted his hand to his lips. He placed a kiss there and then blew it towards the flower bed—it was something his mum had done countless times to him in his youth—and he wanted to honor her with the gesture.

He walked back to Harry who poured them each another shot. His heart didn’t feel any lighter and he felt like he was leaving something undone. 

 

He studied Harry closely as they clinked their glasses together. The sadness in his eyes was unmistakable, grief lined the corners of his mouth, and Ron suddenly felt as though he was being very selfish. Harry had loved his parent’s…maybe he needed to say something too…and knowing Harry he probably felt responsible for their deaths. 

“Harry, did you want to say something?”  
Harry looked away but not before Ron saw the guilt that flared in his eyes. Harry turned away and Ron let his hand fall on his shoulder.

“Harry, it wasn’t your fault—none of it. Not my family…not…” Ron’s voice cracked and he struggled to continue, “not Hermione.”

He felt Harry shudder at the mention of Hermione’s name. Merlin he wished she were here—she’d always been able to handle moments like this better than him. Her voice suddenly rang clearly in his ears and it was almost like she was there whispering to him.

“Harry—you don’t have to be strong,” Ron whispered, “I was being selfish…only thinking of my grief…not thinking you must be hurting too.”

He pulled Harry into his arms and he could feel the sobs racking his body.

“I miss her… I miss them… God-I just want the pain to stop…” Harry said, his voice full of anguish, “I’m not sure I can do this without Hermione…I don’t know how…”

Ron heart lurched painfully and a knot formed in his stomach, “I can’t talk about Hermione,” he whispered, “Harry… I …oh God…do you think she knew we loved her? I know we told her but do you think she knew…”

“She knew…”

Ron buried his face into the crook of Harry’s neck and tried to hold back the tears. He was failing miserably and he tightened his arms around Harry’s waist.

“I feel like a part of me is missing…I feel like there’s a part of us missing…”

“Hermione—was the best part of us. She…” Harry seemed to be struggling for words and his voice broke with his next words. “She completed us.”

The last hold Ron had on the grief that lay just beneath the surface broke free. The pain drove him to his knees. The pouring rain and thunder did nothing to hide his anguish and he pulled Harry to him roughly. His anger welled to the surface through his sobs and he shoved Harry away. 

“Get away… Leave me alone…” 

He wrapped his arms around himself and rocked back and forth. He was so cold…so cold…and he would never be warm again. Memories of Hermione assaulted him and her voice echoed in his head.  
“Did you know you’ve got dirt on your nose?”  
“Honestly Ron…”  
“I love you… I love you both…I want you both…”

Ron felt Harry’s arms come around him and struggled to get free, “ I should have been there…I should have protected them somehow…”

“Then you’d be dead too—and I couldn’t take it…”

Ron pulled Harry closer, needing to get warm, and stop feeling dead inside. Harry kissed his cheek and blinding need swept over him. He crushed his lips to Harry’s and felt them part immediately. His hands tore at Harry shirt, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin, desperate to feel the reassuring racing of his heart. Harry moaned against his lips as he wrenched open his shirt buttons flew into the tall grass and Ron broke away to yank his own shirt off before drawing Harry back against his body. 

“I need you…” He muttered against Harry’s neck, “I need to be warm.”

Harry tilted his head back and moaned when Ron’s suckled at his pulse point. 

“Then take me…I need you too…”

He pressed him into the wet grass, enjoying the feeling of Harry beneath him for a moment, before pressing his erection firmly against Harry’s. It wasn’t enough—their trousers were too thick—he wanted to feel Harry throbbing against him. His hands slid to the buttons on Harry’s trousers and worked them free and pushed them down. Ron could feel the heat coming from Harry’s cock and it twitched when he bent forward and took it in his mouth and sucked. Harry’s hands were tangled in his hair and his hips were thrusting upward in desperation. He savored the sound of his name being moaned repeatedly and his hand pumped the base of Harry’s cock hoping to draw the more of the same response.

He opened his eyes and looked up—Harry was watching him with eyes filled with lust and love—and Ron felt his own cock twitch in anticipation.

“Ron…I… want to touch…Oh Fuck that’s brilliant…” 

Harry’s moans were driving Ron mad. He released Harry from his mouth with a pop and pulled his own trousers from his body. He was desperate—he needed to be inside Harry now.

He pulled Harry to his knees and crushed their mouths together. His tongue slid past his lips parting them effortlessly. He felt Harry’s hands sliding over his arse and lifted his mouth away to moan as their cocks brushed against each other.

“Fuck… I need to be inside you now…” He didn’t bother to disguise the need in his voice, “Tell me that’s what you want!”

“Yes…”

He lost all sense of reason when Harry said yes…his need blinding him to everything… and he turned Harry around and pushed his shoulder forward. He heard the wet slap of Harry’s hands hitting the wet grass and the whispered lubrication charm that Harry murmured. His hands fell to Harry’s hips and with one stroke buried himself inside Harry’s heat.

Harry’s moan and the way he grinded his arse into Ron’s hips sent him over the edge. He withdrew almost completely and slammed his hips forward burying himself back inside Harry’s heat. He slid around Harry and closed it around his cock. It was throbbing against his hand and he stroked it in time with each of his thrusts. He was so close and knew Harry was too when he moaned loudly.

 

“Fuck me harder!”

Unable to speak Ron complied and pounded into Harry—his hard worked over the soft skin that covered the steely hardness beneath and felt it swell. He felt Harry’s impending release before he heard the hoarse shout escape Harry’s lips. He felt the hot heat in his own belly swell when Harry tightened around him. His vision blurred, as he own release poured over him. 

He fell forward and the two of them lay there in the grass with the rain still pouring down. He struggled to regain his breath and rolled off of Harry.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I didn’t intend for that to happen.”

Harry rolled on his side and met his eyes evenly, “We both needed that—we needed to feel alive.”  
“What happens now? How do we go on?” Ron prayed Harry had an answer.

“I don’t know…One day at a time?”

They stood up and began dressing. The silence was back only now it didn’t seem so suffocating. It was going to take time to fill this place with laughter and light again.  
They finished dressing and his eyes met Harry’s—he saw the understanding shining there and reached out to entwine their fingers.

“Come on let’s go home.”

Over the horizon the clouds began to break and a small sliver of sunlight made it’s way through the clouds. Ron felt his heart lighten and realized he’d found hope.


End file.
